


How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

by USSAnke



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-22 10:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/USSAnke/pseuds/USSAnke
Summary: After returning to the Alpha Quadrant, Seven of Nine decides to go her own way - with support of the Doctor and an old movie. What could possibly go wrong? J/C in the end
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay/Seven of Nine
Comments: 27
Kudos: 29





	1. Everything must come to an end - they say

"Your training program to regain my humanity lacks an important lesson," Seven of Nine stated matter-of-factly. She had arranged to meet the Doctor in his prestigious office at Starfleet's medical research complex, even though she had had to stare down the Doctor's unnecessarily arrogant assistant with a nasty Borg glare to get this appointment.

"Really?" The mimic subroutines gave the Doctor's face a piqued expression. "What lesson is that supposed to be?"

"How to turn someone down."

"You never seemed to have any trouble with that until now," the EMH grumbled. "Who would you like to turn down?"

"Commander Chakotay."

"The commander? But you were so confident about this relationship."

"That was in the Delta Quadrant. Returning to the Alpha Quadrant has changed the parameters on which my assessment was based. The likelihood that, under the changed conditions of the Alpha Quadrant, a continuation of our relationship will result in a lasting success is very low. Therefore, I believe it is best not to pursue this relationship any further."

"Do you really think so?"

"On Voyager, the number of eligible partners was extremely limited; here it is potentially infinite. Besides that, our life paths were clear. Now everything is uncertain. Both myself and the Commander have a variety of options available to us, and we shouldn't obstruct them by clinging to a relationship whose basis is pure sentimentality."

"But you do have feelings for the commander?"

"Indeed. And I assume in the Delta Quadrant more would have outgrown that sentiment, but here so many impressions are crashing in on me..."

Seven did not finish the sentence but raised her shoulders in an unaccustomed helplessness.

"I need time for myself, and I value the Commander too much to let him bind himself to me out of a sense of duty."

"I understand."

Seven on Nine nodded. "Unfortunately, it is to be feared that the Commander is not so clear-headed in this regard. Chakotay is prone to emotional reactions in quite a few situations. I have learned that this can be a strength, but I fear hurting him should I not find the right words to convey my motivations to him."

"I see the problem," the doctor said, furrowing his brow in thought as his subroutines went into high gear to find a solution. What twist of fate - or Tom Paris? - caused his program algorithms to consider an early 21st-century film as a relevant reference will forever remain a mystery in the history of artificial intelligence.

"I have an idea, Seven."

=/\=

"I have to end it, B'Elanna," Chakotay said.

Oops, where did that come from? Chakotay gave the bottle of Chateau Picard an accusing look. Obviously, he wasn't used to real alcohol anymore. But how could he refuse Tom Paris' kind offer to share the treasures of the Paris family wine cellar with him? Chakotay sank a little deeper into the comfortable lawn chair. Now that the debriefings on Voyager's return were over, Tom and B'Elanna had invited him to join them this evening and he had gladly accepted. The last months had been exhausting. The return of Voyager, the excitement afterwards when Kathryn Janeway and he had fought for the honour and the future of his Maquis, the relief when it was decided to refrain from further prosecution and the joy when the High Command had offered them to change their provisional ranks into regular ones. Many had gladly accepted. Who would have thought that possible seven years ago? Michael Ayala, Mariah Henley and Tabor were already on their way again. Tom and B'Elanna would be leaving Earth in a few days for a mission with the USS Vienna - as chief engineer and chief helmsman, of course. Chakotay looked around. Admiral Paris had gotten his son and his son's family a beautiful penthouse overlooking San Francisco Bay, and while Tom was putting little Miral to bed, he was sitting here with B'Elanna on the roof deck, drinking wine and making inappropriate comments. Oh yes, a glance at his old friend told him that B'Elanna had registered his remark very well and was now waiting for further explanation.

"I assume you're talking about Seven of Nine," she finally said.

"Is it that obvious?" asked Chakotay.

"What other thing would you want to end?" asked B'Elanna. "Poor Seven. Why?"

"I am old." Was he mistaken, or did B'Elanna stifle a grin? "And she's so young."

"So she was in the Delta Quadrant."

"That's true," Chakotay nodded. "Though, somehow it wasn't as important there. But here? Here are thousands who would be a better match for her, who are her age, intellectually more in tune with her and..."

"... not in love with somebody else," B'Elanna continued without mercy.

"She deserves better," he simply stated, turning back to his wine glass. This discussion was not what he had in mind for a nice evening with old friends. Where was Tom, anyway? Chakotay was sure that B'Elanna would not pursue the topic in the presence of her husband. But as if Tom knew that he was not wanted at least from her side, he did not show up. Chakotay had already observed a time or two how Tom and B'Elanna could seemingly communicate telepathically. This time he found it rather annoying.

"You have to tell her, Chakotay," B'Elanna meanwhile said.

"I don't want to hurt her."

"P'tach. Is this about her or about you? You are hurting her a lot more by holding on to a relationship you don't believe in anymore and that's going to fail sooner or later anyway. Tell her. Tomorrow."

Where did she get off talking to him like that? Just because she had been in a relationship with Tom Paris for years and had been happily married for over a year, didn't imply he considered B'Elanna Torres to be a luminary in relationship matters. Although there was some truth in her words. Chakotay sighed.

"You're probably right."

"Probably?" The raised eyebrow indicated that B'Elanna felt she was most certainly right. And when Chakotay was honest with himself, he agreed - even if he still didn't acknowledge B'Elanna as a relationship expert.

"All right, sure. I'll make a date with her tomorrow and tell her."

B'Elanna nodded her agreement. "Be kind."


	2. Beginning of the end

Chakotay was nervous. It had been a long time since he had ended a relationship. The thing with Seska had simply faded out and in the few encounters after that it had been clear from the start that they could only be temporary relationships. This time things were different. He had contacted Seven first thing in the morning to make an appointment for tonight. If he had put it off any longer, he probably wouldn't have been able to muster up the courage. Now here he was, sitting in a nice little restaurant, nervously playing with his napkin, waiting to play hangman to an unsuspecting Seven. She had been so cheerful and nice in their conversation this morning. Not her usual cool Borg self at all. Crap, crap, crap. How had he even allowed himself to get into such a mess?

"Hey, love."

Chakotay almost jumped out of his chair when suddenly Seven's voice cooed in his ear from behind. Yes cooed!

"Hello Seven."

"I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?"

"No, no," Chakotay heard himself say in a completely alien voice, while his mind was still trying to process what he saw. Seven had always been a beautiful woman - well, at least from the moment on the Doctor had regrown her hair - but this appearance was otherworldly. She wore a pink cocktail dress, silver high heels, and had a strand of her loose hair wrapped around her finger as she asked her question with a red pout.

Now she settled down demurely across from him, bent over and offered him a detailed look at her cleavage.

"I'm glad of that," she giggled.

Chakotay's neurons danced samba.

"I need to talk to you, Seven," his mouth said. _I need to get out of here. Fast,_ his mind said.

"Oh." Seven looked at him with wide eyes. "What a coincidence, so do I."

"Oh, yeah?" said Chakotay weakly.

"Because I have something really great for you!"

=/\=

"What was I supposed to do, B'Elanna? She had organized tickets for the finals of the Starfleet Boxing Championships. I don't know where she got them - I couldn't get any for money and good words." Chakotay himself thought his words sounded lame when he reported to B'Elanna the next day. And the expression on his old friend's face told him that B'Elanna was thinking exactly the same.

"Tickets to the boxing championship," she snorted.

"Besides, there was something wrong with her. The real Seven would never have acted that way. In this situation, it would have been negligent to just break up with her."

"What if that's exactly what she was aiming for?" asked B'Elanna.

"You mean, she sensed that I wanted to end our relationship and was trying to counteract it that way?"

"That would be one explanation, at least."

"Then maybe I should..."

"Chakotay," B'Elanna said sharply. "You gave me good reasons why this relationship should be ended not only for your sake, but for hers too. Don't chicken out now. With each passing day, you're only making it worse."

"I'll just wait for the boxing championships tonight," Chakotay decided. "I need to know what's going on with her. I care about her and if she's miserable, I can't just leave her."

"Do what you think is right."

=/\=

It had been right to wait for the championships. Together with thousands of other fans, Chakotay and Seven sat in the large boxing hall and feverishly awaited the final fight. Chakotay had been watching Seven all evening, she was a bit more cuddly than usual, but she seemed to be doing well. Surely, he would be able to end their relationship tonight without a guilty conscience. He would take Seven to a small café after the fight, they would talk, and all would be well. Chakotay turned back to the action in front of him. So far it had all been petty banter, but in a moment two giants of boxing, Andie Anderson and Benjamin Barry, would meet. Everyone agreed that it would be an epochal encounter and he was there. The two opponents had just arrived, just a few minutes left....

"Chakotay, I'm thirsty."

Chakotay looked at Seven, aghast. That was not a sentence he ever expected to come out of her mouth.

"Will you get me something to drink?"

Chakotay's disenchantment grew. This couldn't be real.

"Excuse me?"

"A root beer would be just fine," Seven said, eyes wide. "If you leave right now, you'll be back before the fight starts."

Chakotay felt trapped, he could either discuss Seven's sanity with her or give in. For now, he decided to give in. Maybe then he would at least have a chance to watch the fight in peace.

Irritated, Chakotay fought his way out through the row of chairs and was met with several pushes and shoves. He couldn't blame the other spectators. Only an idiot would go outside now.

At least there was no one at the drink stand. Chakotay rushed toward the vendor, who was also reluctant to part from the screens broadcasting from inside the hall.

"A cup of root beer," he ordered.

"Now?" the vendor asked.

"Now!" Chakotay was close to losing patience. Was this guy going to argue with him, too?

With the hard-won root beer, Chakotay rushed back into the hall. The thumps from his seatmates were even more forceful this time. After all, the fight hadn't started yet. When he sat down, the two opponents were getting rid of their robes. Happily, he handed Seven the root beer.

Seven took a sip.

"This root beer is caffeinated."

"Yes?" said Chakotay absently. Now it was about to start.

"I can't regenerate if I drink root beer with caffeine."

"Excuse me?"

"Will you get me a cup of decaf root beer?" Again, that melting look. Where on earth did she pick that up? "Pleaseeeeee."

Okay, Seven had apparently blown some of her Borg circuitry. Chakotay again made his way through the now truly unwilling onlookers and sprinted to the drink stand. From behind, the gong sounded. Crap, now the fight had started without him.

"A decaffeinated root beer," he orderd gruffly. Fortunately, this time the clerk wasn't in the mood for a discussion. Chakotay sprinted back and had just reached the entrance of the hall when again a gong and a bawling from many thousand throats sounded. No, it couldn't be over already! And he had seen NOTHING. Yes, it was over. Already the first spectators streamed past him and talked animatedly about Anderson's victory of the century - which he had missed. Chakotay let himself sink against the wall. That was were Seven found him.

"What a fight," she beamed, "What a shame you missed it."

"What a shame," were the only words he managed to get out.

Along with hundreds of other spectators, they were washed out onto the street in front of the hall.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening and the root beer." Seven blew him a kiss on the cheek, turned and disappeared into the throng of spectators that continued to pour inexorably down the street. Chakotay hadn't even found the time to invite her for coffee as planned - ha, that probably wouldn't have been right either. Or only decaffeinated. When B'Elanna would call tomorrow, he would not answer.


	3. No end in sight

Unlike Chakotay, the second person involved in the events of the previous evening was eager to share her experiences, and furthermore, this person - also unlike Chakotay - did not think the evening was a disaster by any means.

"Our charade seems to be on target," Seven of Nine informed the doctor. "I am confident I have caused a level of upset by my behavior that Chakotay cannot long be anxious to continue to maintain our relationship."

"Wonderful." The doctor rubbed his hands. "I was certain you possess a talent for acting, Seven."

"Indeed, it is interesting to subject that aspect of my personality to further consideration," Seven agreed. "Although I would have preferred a less pathetic role. I don't see why an adult female would be unable to go without hydration for such a manageable period of time, or, should the need be unavoidable, to at least obtain said hydration herself - unless said adult were severely injured or ill."

"Demonstrated female helplessness is part of the mating rituals of many cultures," the doctor explained. "This is intended to test the male’s ability to provide for his mate and any offspring."

Seven shook her head. "I think this procedure is ineffective and undignified. Does it still find application these days? I can't imagine Lieutenant Torres testing Lieutenant Paris' suitability as a mate in this way."

"Modern women are indeed increasingly refraining from such behavior," the doctor confirmed. "That is precisely why we had chosen it, it was to be enervating to the commander."

=/\=

Said commander found it extremely difficult to concentrate on his work. The events of the previous evening kept haunting his mind. And while he had been mostly upset yesterday, he was now becoming more and more concerned. Seven's behavior was not normal. When B'Elanna called, he accepted the call, contrary to his resolution the day before.

Seriously, B'Elanna listened to her friend's account.

"You are right, there is indeed something wrong. This behavior is absolutely out of character for our favorite Borg."

"It was as if she was a completely different person."

"You should talk to the Doctor, maybe there's another problem with one of her implants."

"I had thought of that, too. I'm worried about her."

B'Elanna nodded. "Probably a good thing you didn't end your relationship after all. That way she has someone to look out for her."

"Does that mean you're withdrawing your advice?"

"Temporarily. But when this crisis is over, you really should go your separate ways," B'Elanna said sternly. "What do you plan to do next?"

"I'm going to invite her to my apartment for dinner tonight. I imagine a quiet and relaxed atmosphere without a lot of distractions will do her good. Maybe we can talk, and she'll tell me what's going on."

"Good idea," B'Elanna gave her approval. "Let me know how it goes."

Before Chakotay could contact the Doctor or Seven, his computer told him it was time to leave for the faculty meeting. Chakotay cursed softly to himself. It had been a dream come true when he had been appointed as professor of anthropology at Starfleet Academy and he had been looking forward to this first meeting where he was supposed to get to know his colleagues. But today, of all days, he had completely different things on his mind. And the preparations he had wanted to do this morning had also remained undone.

=/\=

Contrary to his expectations, the meeting went well. His colleagues were friendly people who were obviously happy to welcome him into their circle. The discussion about the curriculum for the next semester went pleasantly and at a high level. Chakotay was just about to relax a bit when they were interrupted by the faculty secretary.

"Sorry to interrupt - Professor Chakotay, there's a call from a lady who unfortunately won't take no for an answer. She's threatened to assimilate me if I don't comply!"

Chakotay watched the secretary's temples pulse with indignation. Until now, he had known Michelle Rubin to be a kind and gentle older lady. Where did Seven get off talking to her like that? He feared it would take quite a while to repair the damage done.

"Thank you, Ms Rubin - will you excuse me for a moment?" he asked his colleagues, and again he saw that the friendliness that had been extended to him until now had dropped a few degrees.

"Of course, Professor Chakotay, surely it is an extremely important matter that drives you away from us," the Dean remarked sourly. "For the time being, we'll continue to talk about the curriculum..."

Vacillating between annoyance and concern, Chakotay hurried to the nearest conn terminal to take Seven's call.

"I missed you," Seven said accusingly as soon as she appeared on the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"It's been 14 hours and 31 minutes since we said goodbye. That's a long time," Seven said.

This is a nightmare, Chakotay thought, a hallucination or one of Q's bad jokes. This whiny creature on the other end of the line was not his Seven of Nine. The real Seven of Nine, at least, would have counted the seconds, too.

"Listen, Seven, I'm in an important meeting right now." Uh,uh, wrong approach. Seven wasn't about bursting into tears, was she? "But what do you think about coming over to my place tonight? Then we can talk about everything, all right?"

Apparently, this had been the right approach, because Seven's features brightened. "All right, Cho Cho. I'm glad."

Relieved, Chakotay ended the connection - but Cho Cho? He needed to talk to the Doctor as soon as possible.

=/\=

Chakotay hadn't been this nervous in a long time. Not even the hearings on the rehabilitation of the Maquis had tugged at his nerves as much as waiting for Seven that evening. The Doctor had been unreachable all afternoon. His assistant - a extremely arrogant person, by the way - had explained that the Doctor was busy all afternoon with a difficult operation. Chakotay could not have known that this operation was Seven's preparation for the evening. As the door buzzer sounded, Chakotay steeled himself for the next Seven personality he was now likely to encounter.

"Hello Cho Cho!"

A beaming Seven stood before him. She was wearing a girly flowery dress that Chakotay would have appreciated on some other women, but just didn't fit Seven. And what was that box she was carrying about?

"Cho Cho?"

"Oh, everyone calls you Chakotay, that's so stiff - and isn't Cho Cho a cute abbreviation?"

"Very cute," Chakotay said weakly as he followed Seven into his apartment. "Listen Seven, are you all right?" He took Seven by both hands and pulled her to a chair. He sat down across from her and looked her into the eyes.

"Of course, I'm all right. What's the point of asking?" defended Seven.

"Are you regenerating regularly? Have there been any abnormalities in your self-maintenance cycles?", Chakotay probed.

"Everything's fine. What should be the matter?" Seven laughed uncertainly.

"You haven't been acting like yourself for two days. You..."

"I don't know what you mean, Chakotay," Seven interrupted him harshly, and for a moment Chakotay felt like he was seeing the old Seven. "You promised me a meal, how about that?"

"But Seven..."

"I'm hungry." Seven's tone made it clear that the discussion was over for her. Nevertheless, Chakotay felt some relief as he retreated to the kitchen. Just then, the old Seven of Nine had clearly been talking to him.

When he came back to the living room, he had to realize that his relief had been premature. Apparently, Seven's box had been full of knickknacks, which she had now generously spread over his quarters. A pair of porcelain shepherds stood on a crocheted doily on the living room table, and a pink plaid was spread over his sofa.

"I've thought your apartment deserved a homier touch," Seven beamed at him. "Isn’t it pretty?"

Chakotay was at a loss for words.


	4. Wit's end

"I admit, that's creepy," B'Elanna looked around Chakotay's redecorated apartment. "And what did she call you? Cho Cho?" Now the engineer had to suppress a giggle.

"Cho Cho," Chakotay repeated somberly.

"But at least she didn't call you at work again?"

"No but look at the conn log."

Chakotay was tired. He had assumed that after seven years in the Delta Quadrant, nothing would upset him anytime soon. But Seven's strange behavior worried him. He had not been able to sleep peacefully any of the last nights. What if Seven was seriously ill? It was obvious that there was some kind of problem. In a way he was grateful for Seven decorating his apartment - it was at least proof that he wasn't the one with delusions.

B'Elanna leaned over the screen and read aloud, "1555 incoming message from Seven of Nine; 1558 incoming message from Seven of Nine; 1605 incoming message from Seven of Nine; 1611 incoming message from Seven of Nine - How many more messages are there?" B'Elanne scrolled down the list.

"Twenty-one - and all with about the same content: Hi, here I am, I guess you're not home, where are you, I miss you..." Chakotay massaged his temples.

"Did you get to talk to the Doctor today?" inquired B'Elanna.

"I did. He explained to me that he met with Seven of Nine just yesterday and she was, and I quote 'in the very best of health’. He also assured me that she was functioning within the desired parameters in every regard. Then he cut me off pretty quickly."

"I guess the new honors are going to his head," B'Elanna grumbled. "He'd better look where he's going the next time, he needs an overhaul of his holo-matrix. Are you still seeing Seven tonight?"

"No," Chakotay shook his head. "She's invited to the Wildmans' tonight."

"I'll be curious to hear what Sam has to report. Surely the others must notice Seven's strange behavior, too."

"I'm sure they do. But what should we do, B'Elanna?"

"Right now, I can only think of two options; talk to a counsellor - if it's nothing organic or cybernetic, then maybe she has a mental problem."

"I don't know, getting a shrink involved right away, that's a little drastic, isn't it?"

"Her behavior is drastic."

"Hmm. What's the second option?"

"Talk to the captain - I mean, Admiral Janeway. During the last four years in the Delta Quadrant, she's had the closest connection to Seven. If anyone can reach Seven, it's her."

"I guess you're right," Chakotay said a little unhappily.

"Honestly, I don't see any other option. It's either a counsellor or the captain. I know you've stayed out of each other's way as much as possible since we arrived in the Alpha Quadrant..."

"...and you know why..."

"...but if anyone can help you, it's her. Be no coward - Cho Cho." Despite the seriousness of the situation, B'Elanna couldn't help but tease him a little. He probably wouldn't be getting rid of the name Cho Cho anytime soon.

=/\=

"Thank you, Kathryn, for making time for me so quickly."

Chakotay had checked in with Kathryn immediately after B'Elanna said goodbye, and now - just half an hour later - he was sitting in her spacious living room. Contrary to popular assumption, Kathryn had not chosen a prestigious apartment in the Admiralty housing complex after her appointment as Admiral, but had moved back to the small village in Indiana where she had grown up and now occupied a cozy little farmhouse there.

"You're welcome Chakotay, your call sounded really urgent." Kathryn eyed him anxiously. Obviously, she could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong. It felt good. Seven was nowhere near ready to spontaneously assess her counterpart's emotions.

"What can I do for you? Off, Sissy, drop it," Kathryn interrupted herself to rebuke a little brown ball of fur that had appeared out of nowhere and was now doing its best to conquer Chakotay's lap. "Sorry, that's one of Molly's granddaughters. Not well trained yet, I'm afraid," she explained with a half-smile.

"That doesn't matter. Well, you're a sweetie, Sissy." Chakotay cuddled the dog and lifted it onto his lap. With a contented sigh, Sissy made herself comfortable there.

"Actually, her behavior shouldn't be rewarded," Kathryn grumbled. But Chakotay detected a certain satisfaction, that he immediately befriended the dog.

"How is Molly?" he inquired. Somehow it was easier to talk about Kathryn's old dog than to get to the reason for his visit.

"Very good. Mark has taken excellent care of her all these years - though he wasn't big on dogs at all. When we got back, he offered to let me take her back, but when I visited him and his family, I realized pretty quickly that she belonged to them now, not me. So, I gave her up - the last sacrifice of the Delta Quadrant, so to speak." Kathryn grinned wryly. "A few days later, Mark showed up with Sissy. He actually knows what happened to each of Molly's offspring... but I'm sure that's not what you wanted to talk about. So Chakotay, what's going on?" demanded Kathryn.

"It's about Seven..." Chakotay saw Kathryn's features harden. No wonder, Seven of Nine was a sore spot between them both and for a brief moment he compared himself to Molly. Had Kathryn given up on him, too, because she felt he belonged to someone else now? Bullshit, he called himself to order and continued with his story. During his account of the events of the past few days, a wide variety of emotions flitted across Kathryn's features, bafflement, concern, and yes, even a bit of amusement at one point or another. Chakotay noted how good it felt to be in her company again. To really talk to her. No one could he read like her, and no one understood him the way she did. In contrast to that, all communication with Seven had been on the surface. In fact, this was more intimate than anything he had ever exchanged with Seven. Damn, he had been an idiot and he had known it from the beginning.

"You have nothing to blame yourself for." Kathryn leaned forward, taking his hands in hers, and looked at him fixedly. Chakotay wasn't sure if she had read his mind or was just reacting to his story. "After our return to the Delta Quadrant, no one could have cared for Seven more lovingly or attentively. It was a great relief that you’ve been there for her."

"But apparently not enough," Chakotay said harshly.

"We don't know that. Here's what I suggest: I'll make some inquiries tomorrow. Seven's behavior must have been noticed by others, after all. Then we'll figure out together what's best to do. No matter what, Seven is not alone," Kathryn looked Chakotay firmly in the eyes, "and neither are you."

=/\=

But it wasn't just Chakotay and Kathryn who were worried; elsewhere, some concern was growing.

"Your plan seems flawed," Seven remarked to the Doctor the next morning.

"What makes you think that?" the latter asked indignantly.

"I have been steadily increasing the intensity of my behavioral deviation over the past few days. But contrary to your prediction, Chakotay does not seem to be deterred by it. Far from it, the frequency of his contacts has increased in recent days and he seems conspicuously concerned about my well-being. It looks like he's bonding with me even more closely than before."

"On the contrary, it's part of the detachment process," the Doctor explained smugly. "Chakotay is a compassionate man, he wants to make sure he leaves you in good health. Yesterday, he even sought me out regarding this, and I'm pleased that I was able to assure him that you are in excellent health."

"Hmm," Seven said with an unfamiliar vagueness. "Still, I can't help the feeling that something is going wrong with our plan. Human beings are often so unpredictable."

"Trust me, Seven. I think I can justifiably call myself an expert on human behavior after the long years of intensive study - although admittedly it can indeed often be irrational and challenging for a mind as structured as yours or mine... Of course, it could be that Chakotay is wary of being alone again," the Doctor reflected. "But I've taken precautions for that, too. I have something here that I'm sure will make the transition easier for him."

**Author's Note:**

> This is a translation of my German story "Wie werde ich ihn los in 10 Tagen?"  
> Please don't hesitate to tell me, when somethings off with the translation.


End file.
